Vignettes
by elaiel
Summary: Various short fics, mostly written for challenges, all standalone vignettes into life on Destiny.
1. Busy

_**Busy - SGU Fanfic**_

**Title: Busy  
>Author: Elaiel<br>Rating**: PG-13  
><strong>Spoilers<strong>: None  
><strong>Word Count<strong>: 380-ish  
><strong>Summary<strong>: Some messages are best not repeated verbatim.  
><strong>Characters<strong>: Eli, Young, Rush, unspecified military person.  
><strong>Author's Notes<strong>: Written for Challenge #054 "re-written" at **sgu_challenge**  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I don't own SGU, not mine, just borrowing, yada yada yada.

"Eli there's some kind of error message coming up here, in Ancient." The sergeant squinted down at it in confusion. "Did I do something wrong?"

Eli wandered over to take a look. The little red box had a very short message in it.

"Eli, stall Young, busy, found something interesting. Rush."

"It's a message, from Doctor Rush," Said Eli. "It's um, just a quick note to say they're going to be a while."

"How long is a while?" Asked Young, walking in to the Core room. "And where the hell is he? He's meant to be in the Gate room."

Eli felt his stomach turn over, he had no idea where Rush had gone off to or who with, as the Ancient grammar in the message appeared to imply plurality as far as he understood. He shuffled his feet then stopped as Young actually turned to look at him. Young walked over towards him and Eli touched the message making it disappear, unsure if Young was able to recognise his own name in Ancient yet.

"He didn't say how long it would take. And he's gone to check on a faulty relay that's causing us some intermittent problems." Eli tried not to look guilty as the lie rolled off his tongue.

Young raised an eyebrow. "Couldn't anyone else do that?"

"Um, it's in a part of the ship that we haven't really looked at yet." Eli temporised.

"So he's decided to use it as an excuse to have a poke around the ship." Young said, filling in the implied details. He grimaced, half in annoyance, half resignedly. "So message him back and ask him how long he's going to be."

Eli tapped a message back into the console in Ancient.

"Doctor, the Colonel wants to know how long you are going to be. Eli"

There was a significant interval whilst they all waited.

"How long is a piece of string? Tell Colonel to insert himself in himself. Busy. Rush"

Eli, looking down at the console, goggled at the message for a moment, then realised he didn't know how to say "fuck himself" in Ancient either.

"Eli?" asked Young, watching him.

Eli made the message disappear quickly

"He says that it's a little more complex with the relay than we thought. He doesn't know."

"Great," muttered Young, "just great!"

He stalked out to the Core Room. Eli finally let out the breath he'd been holding.


	2. Mandatory crew lecture

**Title: Mandatory Crew Lecture****  
><strong>**Author: Elaiel****  
><strong>**Rating**: PG-13  
><strong>Spoilers<strong>: None  
><strong>Word Count<strong>: 250-ish  
><strong>Summary<strong>: The mandatory crew lecture - drabble  
><strong>Characters<strong>: TJ, Young, practically all the crew  
><strong>Author's Notes<strong>: Am I the only person that this occurred to? Happens shortly after the first episode or two of series one!  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I don't own SGU, not mine, just borrowing, yada yada yada.

TJ stood in the Gateroom, with the assembled crew there. She ran her eye across the audience. Everyone except for the duty staff who she'd already spoken to in a group and not surprisingly Rush who she figured probably wouldn't need this lecture for one reason or another.

She'd set up folded blankets for people to sit on, stolen from empty cabins, in arcs from where she stood. Colonel Young moved up to stand next to her.

"Right people, at ease, make your selves comfortable." Young instructed. "This has been designated a mandatory crew lecture."

There was shuffling and people sat down, murmuring.

TJ grinned and took over.

"I'd like to reassure you first of all, that as military personnel or employees, you've all been given a clean bill of health on a regular basis for quite some time, with the exception of Eli, who for other reasons has also been given a clean bill of health for a significant period of time, so you probably have little to worry about in the infections and inconvenient illnesses front."

Young looked at the sea of confused faces in front of him.

"I'm not stupid enough to think that military personnel or civilian there isn't going to be fraternising going on, we're stuck out here for the foreseeable future, so I've asked TJ to give you this lecture."

There was mumbling, sniggering and general noise around the room. Greer wolf-whistled. TJ waited for the noise to subside.

"However," she said, "unless you can avoid getting to third base, learn to count, abstain or a combination of the three, we're going to have an unexpected and inconvenient population explosion here. Ladies and gentlemen we are all out of birth control."


	3. Sheer luxury

"This is pure luxury." Breathed Camille, wriggling her toes, then using a scrap of t shirt fabric to rub away cuticles and scrub away dirt.

"Oh yes." Said Vanessa, sloshing her feet around in the ancient crate full of water, just the bearable side of too hot.

Chloe lifted a foot up to rest it on her knee and rubbed at the hard skin with what to all intents and purposes was a pumice stone retrieved from a dry and volcanic planet. They all leaned back on the sofa whilst their feet soaked in the water. Dried flowers floated wetly on the top scenting the room with their unfamiliar, slightly herbal, floral scent.

"It's amazing what you can do with a double boiler, herbs and some cooking fat," said Vanessa, waving a metal beaker of strongly scented ointment. "Foot cream. My mom had this aromatherapist when I was young, she used to make her own creams. I got her to show me once."

"I think I want to marry you." Said Chloe. "Where did you get the cooking fat?"

"Becker let me have some of the dripping from the last meat we had. I just had to clarify it a bit, heat it and skim off the messy part till it was clean." She shrugged. "Probably best not to ask, it's not as indulgent if you know where it comes from."

Camille sniffed the tin cup.

"Who cares where it came from, it's scented foot cream." She put it down and took the pumice from Chloe. "My turn."

There was silence as feet were soaked and scrubbed, then sighs as foot cream was rubbed into softened and scoured feet.

""Heaven." Said Camille. "This was your best idea for an evening in yet."


	4. Food supplement

_**Food supplement.**_  
><strong>Title: <strong>Food supplement  
><strong>Author: <strong>Elaiel  
><strong>Rating: <strong>PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>none  
><strong>Spoilers: <strong>none  
><strong>Characters: <strong>Young, Rush, Dr Inman, TJ, various  
><strong>Author's notes:<strong> Came to me whilst eating breakfast. Being as Rush and Young **never **agree on anything, it occurred to me that they definitely wouldn't agree on this absolutely fundamental food issue. (This may make more sense to UK/Aus/NZ people!)

"Where's Rush?" Young was beginning to hate that question.

Brody and Volker looked up from the consoles. Brody shrugged before going back to his work.

Young looked at Eli.

"Last time I saw him he was talking to Doctor Inman in the messhall."

Brody looked up again.

"Inman's in the still room, she wants to use the waste yeast to synthesise some kind of vitamin supplement, something about B vitamins we're not getting in our diet. She had TJ with her."

The still room was deserted. Inman's food lab was deserted. The Infirmary was deserted.

Young finally tried the mess.

"It's disgusting!"

He could hear Ramirez from the corridor.

"It's great!" said Greer.

"You'll eat anything!" Ramirez response was disgusted.

"It's got good promise as stock." Becker's voice was reasonable. "It'll probably even cut over the taste of purple sweet potatoes a bit."

"It's the only good source of B vitamins we have so far." Said TJ categorically. "Every member of this crew is B12 deficient on our vegetarian diet. Everyone is eating it."

Young walked in. There was Doctor Inman, Kemp, Ramirez, Barnes, Becker, Greer, TJ, Inman, Doctor's Alexander and Stanton, both of whom were British, and Rush. All were crowded round a tin plate of small pieces of Becker's flatbread spread with some sort of brown goo. Rush, Alexander, Barnes, Greer and Stanton were popping pieces into their mouths with every indication of enjoyment.

"What is it?" he asked.

"It's a vitamin supplement," TJ said, "and a new food source, a by-product of the still."

Young took a piece, a small piece, and grimaced as the savoury salty taste filled his mouth.

"It's disgusting." Said Young.

Dr Stanton put another piece in his mouth, chewed and swallowed and gave Young a beatific look.

"It's Marmite." Said Rush eating another piece. "Just like home."

-

NB - For those who haven't come across it:  
><span>Marmite at Wikipedia<span>.

(p.s. I **love** Marmite.)


	5. Motivations

**Title:** Motivations  
>C<strong>haracter:<strong> Tasia (appeared in: S2Ep16 "The Hunt")  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> 172  
><strong>Content FlagsWarnings:** character death

Damn Varro, damn him.

She didn't want to die on this damn planet, eaten by monsters, trying to save a woman she didn't even know simply because Varro, bloody Varro, was in love with her. Oh she could see it, it was blatant. He said it was all about getting the Tauri to trust them, getting them a better position on the ship, but that wasn't his main motivation.

And maybe it would, maybe being willing to take these risks would get them a better position. Maybe it would make these strange people trust them, improve their situation, maybe even go towards making them part of the crew. But that wasn't the main reason he asked for it. The main reason was her. The blonde doctor. The one he had been interested in right from the start.

She could feel the coldness coming over her. Even the pain was fading, where was his damn doctor now, huh? Her vision began to blur and the world receded. Damn Varro, damn him to hell.


	6. Unexpected Pleasures

Eli walked the short distance from the 'campsite' to where Rush was examining the stela by the ruined building.

"Have you worked anything out yet?" he asked animatedly.

"I'm not an archaeologist." Rush said witheringly over his shoulder.

"I know that," said Eli, "but it is in Ancient isn't it?"

"A form of it," Rush agreed reluctantly, "not one I'm particularly familiar with."

"I brought you dinner." Eli said.

He stepped forward and proferred the covered plate.

"It's not great, there weren't any decent sized meat animals but..."

He saw Rush sniff the air and paused then continued. "But one of the rivers was just full of..."

"Smoked fish." said Rush not taking his eyes off the plate.

"Well it didn't come out the river smoked, that was Varro."

"Hot smoked fish."

said Rush reaching for the plate.

"With steamed greens and some sort of baked starchy root that doesn't taste bad." added Eli.

Rush snatched the plate and instantly dropped to sit cross legged on the floor. He uncovered the plate and began eating with his fingers. His eyes were half closed and his expression almost orgasmic. Eli felt bad disturbing him, but interrupted anyway.

"Lieutenant Scott said to tell you we have an hour before we have to leave."

Rush scraped the last of the fish juice out of the bottom of the metal plate with the last baked root.

"Fine. There's nothing more I can do here."

He stood up and handed Eli the plate.

"Thank you." To Eli's surprise it actually sounded genuine.

Rush stood, licking each one of his fingers clean. Eli watched, a little fascinated.

"There's more to take back to the ship." he offered the older man. Rush obviously liked the fish a LOT more than he did. "Fresh fish, smoked fish and some drying."

"We have to take these little unexpected pleasures where we can." said Rush looking at the empty plate Eli was holding. "I think," he muttered, "I could begin to warm to Mr Varro."


	7. Date Night

**Title**: Date night  
><strong>Author<strong>: Elaiel  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG  
><strong>Word count<strong>: 1281 words  
><strong>Warnings<strong>: None  
><strong>Characters<strong>: Young/TJ  
><strong>Author's notes<strong>: Massively fluffy romantic cuteness for Shenadoah Risu and for **gateteam_sg8**in the Red Alert "Date Night" challenge

Young stood in front of the mirror shaving carefully. He still wasn't quite comfortable with the straight razor, but it was easier to make straight razors than new parts for electric razors and after the foil on his razor had gone he'd given up and gone with the straight razor, donating the remains of the electric razor to the science team. Apparently little motors were useful and interesting.

Brody had made the straight razors, going through testing a variety of materials before finally settling on the current model, made from broken off parts of Destiny's hull which took a significant amount of effort to machine, but held a blade for...well, no one had managed to blunt one yet.

Based on the current ammunition situation, Young was seriously considering asking him to make some swords or at least extra long knives for the soldiers, and if that wasn't a really surreal thought he didn't know what was. Crossbows had also seemed a viable option when he lay in bed at night worrying about how long they could hold out till the ammunition was gone.

He finished up the last tricky bits round his nose and wiped the rest of the shaving oil from his face with a cloth. He folded the curved blade back into the bone handle. Rush was responsible for carving most of those apparently, during late night bridge shifts according to Eli. Rush of all people, the man didn't even shave! The science team had run the razors as a project, every male crew member had received a straight razor on Christmas Day, each with their name on it. Some were further decorated. Young's had his name etched deeply into one side and a series of savage looking wolves carved on the other. He knew Greer's had a lion, Becker's a cornucopia, and Volker's were obviously chickens which Young thought was rather cruel.

He damped his hair a little, ran a comb through it and turned away from the mirror.

His uniform was under his mattress. Thank you Chloe. Apparently a stint in a Catholic boarding school had taught her a combination of hanging clothes in steamy shower rooms, then carefully folding and squashing your folded clothes between two hard surfaces under your mattress produces an effect pretty close to ironing them. He pulled out his trousers carefully noting the hard creases down the fronts with pleasure. The shirt didn't look too bad either, although there was a crease at the sides of the collar where it had all been pressed flat, but the whole effect was good, Proper uniform, it surprised him how much he'd missed it.

There was a tapping at his door. Everyone knew he was taking TJ to movie night though god knows how, and it had grown and suddenly become a big thing. A date. He'd had relationship advice from Camile (ouch!), clothes advice from Chloe, a hair cut from Scott, and a former shampoo bottle of something from Brody. It apparently could be relied on to taste better than the usual hooch, but had quite a lot of what appeared to be fruit and seeds floating in it. Brody claimed it was a collaboration between himself and Becker. Young wasn't sure whether it was food drink or even safe for human consumption.

He finished buttoning his shirt and walked over to the door. There was no-one there, but there was a small bottle with a piece of paper tied round it.

In block capitals the paper said. "Don't ask where it came from."

There was no signature, and he couldn't guess who it was from the capitals. The bottle was aftershave. Young sniffed it. Smelled half decent, must belong to someone. Still, who cared? He took it in, put a small amount on and put the rest carefully away. If they wanted it back they could ask for it.

He stood, staring at himself in the mirror. Apart from the fact he was quite a lot thinner and somewhat greyer, the face that stared back at him looked familiar, just one he hadn't seen for a long time. An officer, not just a leader with the weight of the world on his shoulders. He smiled a little ruefully at himself. He hoped TJ liked it. (He hoped no-one else laughed).

Screwing up his courage he stepped away from the mirror, caught up the mystery bottle of "I can't believe it's not shampoo" and left the room.

As he walked out into the corridor, he caught the unmistakeable double click of someone signalling with a radio but when he looked round the corridor was deserted. He walked the short distance to TJ's quarters, and before he turned the corner heard a distinct sound of footsteps and female giggling, but once again when he rounded the corner the corridor was deserted.

He walked up to TJ's door and knocked. It swished open almost immediately.

"I got made over." She said instantly, then "You look nice."

She looked stunning. Whoever had made her up had rounded up some make up, a little mascara and lipgloss at least and her hair was an even more complicated version of her usual complicated up do.

She was wearing a skirt, which was a good couple of inches above the knee on her very long legs, and a blouse with a deep cowl neck that exposed a good amount of cleavage. She noticed him noticing and smiled.

"Chloe made it." She said. "The skirt is borrowed from Doctor Inman and the boots are Chloe's"

"It doesn't matter. You look amazing." He told her.

He held out his arm and she took it.

"Let's go and be over dressed for the cinema." He said.

She smiled back at him.

There should have been people milling around near the observation lounge waiting for Eli and Brody to set up the movie but the corridors were curiously deserted. Young was beginning to suspect some kind of set up. They stepped into the observation lounge to see no-one except Becker standing by the counter and a table and two chairs set up by the window.

He had uniform on, and a apron on, or at least something approximating one around him waist.

"If you'd like to take a seat" He said. "The window seat is free."

There was a faint noise of movement and a female giggle from the door.

"Oh come on," came Eli's voice, "let them eat!"

There was a slapping noise of a hand hitting a door control and the door hissed shut.

"Tonight's special is a three course meal, mainly based on our local delicacy the purple sweet potato." Becker said apologetically. "and it's haute cuisine, i.e. small portions, but there's a soup from the first of the squashes from the hydroponics, and some strawberries for dessert."

He gestured them to the table. Young smiled reassuringly at him, and putting the "shampoo" on the table and playing along with it pulled out TJ's seat for her. Becker took the bottle and poured a little into the tin mugs.

"I can highly recommend our aperitif, which is made from best 2010 Destiny crate matured hooch and mystery fruit and stuff that Doctor Inman found on the last planet. Apparently it tastes kinda like apple cinnamon. Kinda. Just don't drink it too fast if you want to finish the evening vertical."

Becker drifted off unobtrusively and Young took a sip. It did taste kind of like apple cinnamon. Kind of.

TJ took a sip and smiled at him.

"Only took you five years and a massive conspiracy by your entire command to take me out to dinner." She said.

He just smiled.


	8. Drabbles ColdPostcardWhimsical

Three 100 word drabbles on the themes Cold, Postcard and Whimsical for a stargateland challenge.

* * *

><p><strong>Cold<strong>

It's the cold that wakes him. Every time it happens, at least once in every week, sometimes for what seems nights on end, the cold.

He rolls over, throws out an arm and hits cold bed. The sensation wakes him instantly from dreams of clear light, from sleep to alert, shocked and searching, confused and disoriented.

Six months, a year, three years, it never goes. In his bed, in a hotel, on a base, on another planet, a myriad of galaxies away from home, one thing is constant.

In his sleep Rush reaches out for her and she is gone.

* * *

><p><strong>Postcard<strong>

Dale sees the postcard every time he goes into the room. It's a postcard from Afghanistan and it's not very good, the printing is cheap and the cardstock thin, but then you don't get much tourism in Afghanistan.

"It's where I _am_." Greer had told him. "A friend brought me a bunch back when I was posted to Icarus. My mom thinks I'm in Afghanistan."

The last postcard Greer had not been able to send to his mom.

It still rankles Dale that after over a year out in the universe Greer's mom has not been read into the program.

* * *

><p><strong>Whimsical<strong>

It is not the way that anyone thinks of him. It is not the way that he thinks of himself. Some days he feels like the weight of the world is on his shoulders.

Young didn't ask for this command, turned it down in fact. They depend on him, all of them, over seventy remaining souls, all look to him to lead. So he leads.

It's an order at the right time, a hard decision made, a dispute resolved, a quiet word in the right ear.

It's a white board full of Garfield cartoons when the mess hall is deserted.


	9. New

For CleanWhiteRoom, she knows why! :D

* * *

><p>Rush regarded them with undisguised disgust.<p>

"They're new." TJ advised him. "They've been treated with some greasy stuff Becker made but you'll have to wear them in a little apparently."

"Who made them?"

"Varro and Chloe." She shrugged. "I got a pair, the Colonel did too, as did everyone whose clothes aren't fit to be worn anymore."

"Why aren't you wearing them?"

"Because I haven't gone through the ass of my pants yet like you, just the knees. Apparently they're all the rage in the Lucian Alliance."

"You can't seriously be expecting me to wear these."

TJ shrugged. "It's not like we have a lot of options."

"And they're too small."

"Nope they're exactly the right size. Measured off against the fatigues you borrowed before."

"And why can't I wear them? Leather pants? You seriously expect me to wear leather pants?"

"You want fabric, you find something to make it from, the last fatigues are for planet use only. Varro can hunt therefore we have leather. Anyway I think your ass will look fine in them." She said with a grin, evidently trying to wind him up. "I think most of the women will agree."

Rush scowled.


	10. Leaving Earth

**Title:** Leaving Earth  
><strong>Author:<strong> Elaiel  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG13  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 522 words  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> none  
><strong>Characters:<strong> Eli & Mrs Wallace  
><strong>Author's notes: <strong>Written for a songfic challenge on **stargateland**- the song is Leaving Earth by Code 64.

* * *

><p>"I'm truly sorry if I was a disappointment to you." He had offered the sentence like a gift, waiting to see how she would react.<p>

"Oh Eli!" She had hugged him, "I always knew you were a bright boy, you just needed the right opportunity."

She is so very proud of him. He seemed such an aimless boy, even as a young man he was an aimless boy. Sitting around the house, playing his games, wasting his time. Well she knew he worried about her and he was only home because of her, because she had had a bad patch and he had come home from MIT and never gone back. She was all he had, they weren't a large family, she was an only child, her parents were both dead and the idea she could die without him being there...well, he had come home.

It was funny that his obsession with games was what had actually got him the job with the air force. He had solved the puzzle, the puzzle that no-one else could solve that Doctor Rush (skinny, unhealthy looking, defensive) had hidden in a computer game to see if anyone else could. That nice Mr Brody (nice smile, messy hair) had explained it when Eli had gone off to the toilet.

He'd also explained that the air force had effectively abducted Eli, beamed him up, like in a science fiction programme, beamed him up to their space ship and told him they needed him on another planet. It was probably for the best, now she knew what was happening, she didn't think he would have left home voluntarily otherwise, too worried about her. This was his way out, she knew, one he'd never have chosen, but an incredible one.

"Sometimes it feels like Earth is kinda like a dream, not real, like I'm losing my grip on reality."

She had pinched him. "Real enough?" He had laughed. "Just you keep trying to come home."

"I'm don't know if we'll make it home Mom."

"Well you just keep visiting me."

And so there he was, a trillion miles away, on a giant alien space ship exploring the galaxy, maybe never to return.

At least now though she understood when he came to visit. The strangeness of seeing her son in another's body was still a little unsettling, but she was getting used to it now, could see when the car arrived which one he was simply by his body language. It didn't matter that he was borrowing someone else's body, his heart was still in the right place, he was her son. He still talked the same way (too fast), moved the same way (too clumsy) and hugged the same way (as if he was scared she would disappear).

I gotta go Mom, it's late." He said standing reaching to hug her again. "It's time for me to leave."

But she was decided. She would be here to listen to his stories of alien worlds. She would be here as long as she could, while he was out there, floating away from her faster than the speed of light.

* * *

><p><strong>Leaving Earth by Code 64<strong>

I'm truly sorry if I am  
>Losing my grip<br>If I'm fading away  
>Watching the stars as I set sail<br>I'm truly sorry if I was  
>A disappointment to you<br>But I cannot stay  
>Watching the stars<br>Longing to set sail  
>I know that I will miss you<br>But it's time for me to leave  
>The arcadia is calling my name<p>

I am drifting away  
>This is my goodbye<br>No need for me to stay  
>This is my way out<p>

I'm truly sorry if I am  
>Losing my grip<br>If I'm fading away  
>Watching the stars as I set sail<br>I know that I will miss you  
>But it's time for me to leave<br>The arcadia is calling my name

I am drifting away  
>This is my goodbye<br>No need for me to stay  
>This is my way out<p>

This is my goodbye


	11. Luck

**Title:** Luck  
><strong>Author:<strong> Elaiel  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG13  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> 462  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> None  
><strong>Characters:<strong> Dale Volker (/Lisa Park/Ronald Greer)  
><strong>Authors Notes:<strong> Written for the **stargateland** challenge "Prompt: Luck" and because I haven't written LDR for ages. This is shameless fluff :D

* * *

><p>Dale lay awake, watching the FTL light out of the window. He was warm and all cuddled up, it was his turn to be in the middle. He smiled as he recalled the arguments of their first few nights together until Lisa had got fed up and chalked up a schedule on the wall of their quarters.<p>

The conversation earlier in the mess had played over in his mind ever since they had left for bed. Courtesy of Ron and he being on an early bridge shift, they had called it a night quite early in the evening and gone to bed simply to snuggle and sleep, but he was still wakeful.

Airman Merrill had been holding forth about his bad luck for half an hour. Dale knew from gossip the guy was having a hard time, his wife had left him while they were in stasis, and his recent relationship with one of the other male airmen was causing him some confusion. But it was his bad luck that he had been banging on about. Bad luck he hadn't been on a gate team, bad luck he was posted to Icarus, bad luck he hadn't been in a position to get to one of the X302s like he should have in defence of the planet, bad luck he was here, that his ex-wife was a bitch, that his skill set was useless here...

It had gone on for a while. Dale's sympathy had been pretty low at the beginning of Merrill's diatribe against the fates, but the end, he had lost all sympathy for the man.

Dale shifted his shoulders slightly. On one side of him Lisa snuffled slightly in her sleep and on the other side of him Ron roused momentarily at his movement, pressed a sleepy kiss to the point of his shoulder and went back to sleep again.

Luck.

For a lonely, science obsessed geek with practically no social skills with either gender, no ability to push himself up the career beyond his basic brainpower (which was good, but everyone knew just being clever was not enough by half), merely average looks and from a decidedly working class background...

...He was listened to by the people in charge (though Rush was a complete asshole, he did listen - sometimes at least - and the Colonel was a good man), he was on possibly the most interesting place in the entire universe, he was still alive with a new kidney, he had the two hottest partners he could imagine (and he had NEVER expected to say that about a guy, even - especially - one as hot as Ron), and they were having a baby.

Dale was without doubt, in his own unclouded opinion, the luckiest guy alive.


	12. Justice

Nicholas Rush stood staring down at the man below him.

His mind ticked over, fast, turning thought around. They wanted him alive. Could Simeon offer them information? Could they ever trust the information? He doubted it. Torture or chemical inducement was out of the question as he would be in someone else's body at Homeworld Command. Undertaking torture here to get the information was out of the question, as Camile at least would never permit it. Though at the moment Rush would quite happily slowly cut pieces out of the man.

What did that say about him though? He was almost probably dead anyway, both of them were, Destiny was long gone unless Eli could pull something out of the hat and that seemed unlikely. Should he really leave him here to die slowly, or should he take him back on the off chance they would be saved. And what if he did, the man would simply be a useless broken drain in their scarce resources. He was never going to give them the information they wanted.

He was violent and insane, a mad and dangerous dog.

Rush raised the gun...


	13. Ignorance

For the stargateland Alphabet soup challenge - one of "26 reasons to disobey your commanding officer" - I is for Ignorance.

* * *

><p>"Eli, don't make me come up there." Young's voice was harsh.<br>"I really need to..." Eli tapped frantically at the screen.  
>"Eli?"<br>"Look, I can't explain right now, but you really need to let me do this."  
>He could see the power flows shifting on the screen, whatever Doctor Rush was doing it appeared that the power flows were increasing. He frantically shuttled relays to allow it to pass through a different part of Destiny's power systems.<br>"Eli, I have no idea what you and Rush are doing, but you need to get back to the Bridge right now. We have significant problems here and Rush is not answering his radio,. Would you like to enlighten me where you both are?"  
>Eli huffed out a breath furiously, snatching up the radio, still tapping one handed at the console.<br>"I'm in the engineering annexe three floors down, at a conduit. Doctor Rush is in the Core Interface Room and we are trying to stop the ship blowing up. Please, please, please just go away Colonel."  
>"Young," Rush's voice came suddenly through the radio. "Fucking shut up while we save you from certain death."<br>Eli let out a long breath of relief and got back to the console.


	14. Out of the Corner of My Eye

He hasn't seen them overtly, they haven't talked to him, for months. Not that he is often alone now, there is always someone around him. There is a distinct lack of trust round here.

No-one else can see them, of that he is certain, he has seen them standing next to member of the crew who are completely oblivious to their presence. He still is aware they are there, he sees movement in his peripheral vision, a figure standing, watching him. Silent and almost still. Almost still enough that he could not notice them. Almost.

There is only ever one of them at a time. Sometimes it's definitely Franklin. Sometimes it's definitely Gloria. Sometimes when the figure is just a twitch of movement in corner of his eye he can't tell.

They don't appear in every room on the ship, the bridge, the observation lounge, the corridors, the infirmary. Most of the public areas of the ship. Never in his quarters for which he is eternally grateful. The idea of being watched while he slept is uncomfortable to say the least. The idea of Gloria waiting there…

He thinks, hopes, it's the AI. If it's not the AI then he's probably mad. It wouldn't surprise him, there is no way that he would admit **anything** publicly, but sometimes he thinks he's a little dissociative at least, and sometimes, when sleep has eluded him for a day or too, he thinks it goes further than that.

And they wait, in his peripheral vision, watching, waiting for him to be alone.


	15. Kiva

It should be hers. The treasure that awaited at the nine chevron address should be hers. Kiva had worked for it, schemed for it, manipulated for it, killed for it. It should not be for the Tauri of Earth who had so much already, to selfishly take it like they had taken everything else.

She knew the Tauri, had been to their planet, lived in their world for a year or more. She had even taken a job working in a coffee shop for a short period to gain a good grasp of the presiding culture of the American group of them who seemed to be the most numerous out in the galaxy. Seeing them at rest, in an environment where they relaxed had been an excellent way of understanding their basic personality as a group. And everyone talked to the person serving them coffee.

It had been enlightening and a little disgusting, how easily the populace were distracted with toys and goods, how little they knew about the reality outside their own city, on other continents of this planet, let alone what was going on beyond their own planet. A greedy people only interested in themselves. Oh there were small exceptions, but most of them were like children, taking, taking taking, never thinking if anything but themselves. Never thinking of the greater good.

It had also shown her how easy it was to infiltrate members of her retinue on to this planet. Not easy to put them in positions of power, but to add them into the seething masses of the populace on Earth was child's play. In a city that held more people than there were on her entire planet when she was a child, no-one asked questions, no-one cared, no-one questioned another immigrant household with strange customs who spoke a foreign language when they were home alone.

Her predecessors in the fight against the Tauri had not seen the long game. They had gone for quick wins, come up against strong opposition and ultimately failed. Kiva would not make these mistakes. She was young, powerful and patient. There was time to achieve her ends.


End file.
